A Proper Hug
by jadekrst
Summary: Ron needs to make up about the names he called Hermione on her sixteenth birthday.


Hermione," Ron said as she ran out of the library. He hated himself. It was her birthday. And she had somehow managed to make her cry.

"Just leave me alone!" Hermione cried, racing up to the bathroom of Moaning Myrtle. Well, it used to be of Moaning Myrtle, but she had left for the month to stay with the merpeople and make them miserable, instead of them, for once.

Ron punched himself in the head. He was such a git. The world's biggest git. With the emotional range of a teaspoon. His heart lurched; that was what Hermione loved to say.

Madam Pince peered around the corner of a bookshelf and looked inquiringly at Ron. He stared at her, than gathered Hermione's books, said "I'll be taking these, thanks," and ran out of the library.

He ran down the hall to the almost empty bathroom. As usual, it was filled with sobs. But real sobs, not self pity sobs. Hermione was sitting behind the sinks; _Which we once ventured down together,_ Ron thought with a twinge of guilt. He walked around the pillar of sinks and kneeled down exactly three inches from the balled up figure of Hermione. He set down the pile of books beside him.

"Hermione." He couldn't help it, he sounded even more insensitive. He sounded as though he really meant to hurt her. Like he was intentionally hurting her. He seemed astonished at his own words.

Hermione looked up sharply, whipping her head up. She stared angrily into Ron's eyes, fury blazing in the chocolate color of her own. They were hot and glassy, Ron's soft and wide.

"What?" It was short, it was loud, it was full of hate.

Ron's heart was cut into pieces. She was so angry, so genuinely angry, it made him so incredibly guilty that he needed to cry himself, but he couldn't crack now, so instead he hiccuped and a tear snuck out of his eyes.

"Hermione. I'm sorry," He said softly.

"What does it matter? You said all that stuff, you must of meant it. Ickle Won Won couldn't lie to any girl, not even a-" Her voice cracked a bit. She took a deep breath and continued.

"Not even a know it all Mudblood with her nose always stuck in book."

Hermione closed her eyes for a few seconds and reopened them, taking another deep breath. Ron looked at her and couldn't breath.

"Don't call me that," He managed to choke out.

"What? Won Won lets his girlfriend call him that, why can't the know it all Mudblood?" Hermione said with a bit more force.

"No, Hermione-"

"No, _Weasley_ , there's no way you can go back and say it any other way. There's no need. You made it perfectly clear to me that only your lady love has any feelings," She said simply, shrugging. She crossed her legs and folded her arms tightly across her chest.

"Don't call me that either, Hermione."

"No. No, no, obviously I'm not good enough to be called by my name, so Granger is just fine, thank you very much."

"Hermione-"

"It's _Granger."_

"Fine. Granger, please stop. I'm sorry, alright? Just listen, before you go on about Lavender again, to me."

"Okay, what is it, Weasley?"

"I'm sorry I called you that. I didn't mean it. It just. . . happened. I'm sorry I called you a know it all Mudblood with her nose always in a book."

"Weasley. Why are you apologizing?"

"Because I don't want you to hate me. I really didn't mean it. I didn't want to hurt you. I'm just sorry I made you cry on your birthday."

Hermione jut shook her head. Sighing, she stood up and, taking large strides, walked towards the exit of the bathroom. She was halfway through the doorway and Ron grabbed her arm, her book bag swinging and hitting her hard on her hip.

"If I can't convince you with words, then listen to me through this."

Ron put on arm on her back and pulled her into him. No kissing, no gooey stuff, just a good proper hug. He held her close to him for a good time, just stroking her soft hair. He had held his breath when he had done it, worried that she would pull away. But she didn't. Instead, she put her arms around his neck.

Now he pulled away, keeping a strong hold on her shoulders and looked at her.

"Hermione. I'm sorry. That's all. If you don't believe me it's your fault. I'll be in the common room either way." He smiled.

Ron walked away, leaving a blushing Hermione standing staring after him. She took a deep breath; she believed him. He was sorry.

"Wait, Ron!" She called, running after him.

She kept running until she had come a foot from the portrait.

"Fortuna Major," She panted.

The door swung open.

Ron was sitting in his favorite arm chair in front of the fire, staring into the cackling flames.

"Ron, I believe you."

Ron looked up, just now noticing her.

"Good."

And he walked up to her and gave her another proper hug and pecked her on the cheek.


End file.
